


Night dark red kissed burning

by Kat2107



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, Drug Addiction, F/M, Murderous Urges, Nightmares
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-03
Updated: 2015-03-03
Packaged: 2018-03-16 04:08:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 198
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3473888
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kat2107/pseuds/Kat2107
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When you´re addicted to something it will grab you at the oddest times. <br/>You can be ok for hours, even days and suddenly you can´t breathe and you panic and there is this violent urge to hurt someone. <br/>A truly dark thing inside you, a fight you can´t flee. <br/>The hunger. <br/>And nothing else can fulfill it. <br/>Almost.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Night dark red kissed burning

**Author's Note:**

> Should you be acutely struggling with addiction right now, I advice to postpone reading for another month or so ;)  
> It´s ok. I understand.   
> You´re gonna make it!   
> I believe in you!

Night. Dark.

Night dark lit by flames of red.  
Death coloring vision.

Red screams.  
It breathes, creeping closer from the edges of his vision.   
The red.   
It´s alive.   
Reaches.  
Eats.  
Calling, crawling, crippling. 

  
_No!_

  
The nightmare that woke him lingers. The fire’s red flickering faintly over sleeper’s bodies.   
Inviting.   
It´s the way their shoulders move under living light with every breath, whispering ‘take me’ into the darkness behind his eyes.  
He wants to.  
He needs to.  
He needs.

Needs red. Needs the pain to stop. His heart to not beat so relentlessly. 

boom. Boom. BOOM.

"Shhhhh"  
It's the whisper of breathe on his neck, the cool caress of carelessly gentle fingers on his abdomen. Skin on skin.   
"I´m here" Her voice - soft fur caressing his back as she rises above him, a queen commanding her warrior.

Soft coolness over his senses. Gentle salve for burning wounds. Ice cold strength dousing the flames.   
He turns his head, lips brushing her hair.   
It is a name on his lips. A prayer for salvation. "Octavia."  
The snake slithers back into the dark, curls up again to sleep, dormant in the cool of her presence.  
So does he.  
 _Octavia._


End file.
